There’s no such thing as a spare moment. Not in a place where you have to fight for survival.
There’s hardly a moment to regather courage or strength at the end of a battle, before the next begins.
It towers up before you as a game on the balance beams, on top of a unicycle, with plates spinning on long poles resting precariously on fingertips. You can toss them up in the air for a moment of muscle relief, but a moment is all, else they crash down to the floor. And even in that moment, more stress is created, as it necessitates a skillful catch, which possibly requires more effort than even the constant balancing.
This is really just me saying I wish life would slow down.
I wish I could pull an Joshua and watch the sky stop for a day so I could catch up.
Retreat’s are deceitful in name. Especially the truly effective type. They only leave you more burdened than before.
I was able to handle the physical and mental exhaustion, but, oh, spiritual exhaustion! That’s another tale.
Is the vessel on the potter’s wheel overused yet? Because it just came to mind.
I heard that in its constant spinning the clay would be constantly thrown out of shape without the firm hands shaping it.
I feel that centrifugal force, that pull in every direction but inward -to the center- where I long to burrow just for a moment of calm.
I’m not overwhelmed. Not yet. I slept seven and a half hours last night and that was wonderful. But I hate having an ever growing list of things to accomplish and in that weight of responsibility never feeling the energy to even start on it..